Guide Me
by Garbageman1
Summary: Jack and raichu stumble upon a young woman. She's oddly out of place in the depth of the forests. And there's something about her... In a town not far a man is stirring the pot, creating mayhem, when he kidnaps a waitress.


The sun shone through thick leaves.

Jack opened his eyes and took a deep, fresh breath of air. Riachu turned. His shining eyes glimmered with fatigue, but they were calm too. He was calm, they both were.

No more hassle from the towns, cities and it's people. No more loud music and chatter. They were alone.

Alone in the nature. Alone as drafts of wind came through the flaps of the tent.

Jack got up, got dressed, stretched his naked toes on the warm grass, fashioned some twigs and logs.

"Raichu, give me a spark." He said.

Raichu jolted over, dipped his tail deep into the core of the structure, and ignited it with a spark. Jack brushed his teeth whilst raichu leapt from branch to branch, treetop to treetop.

"Don't exhaust yourself now." Barked Jack. Jealous he wasn't able to.

They ate a long breakfast, and watched the slow moving shades from the trees move clockwise. A clock they were no slaves of. The sun had reached the tip of the cloudless sky.

"We should get going," Jack said. But raichu was nowhere to be seen.

Jack sighed, but didn't show any signs of worry or dread. Jack knew raichu was out there, knew that the pokemon's watchful eyes and wiggling nose both saw and smelled him. Knew that two souls - like theirs, which had been shattered into thousands of pieces and then re-forged as one, would always and forever be in sight.

Raichu had saved Jack from a mindless mind and useless body. Jack had saved raichu from vile humans and death. There was no love safer. There was no pain which could not be suppressed. And no life worth living without the other.

Raichu dashed out of the bushes.

Startled, yet fixed, he came between the forest line and his trainer. It rustled from within. Jack clawed for his bow, but fumbled for the quiver and fell head first into a rotted tree trunk.

Raichu gazed at him, as to say, "what are you doing fool, enemy ahead!"

Jack cursed, reached for the knife on his belt and got up. He tasted blood, felt it wash down his face. Felt dizzy and sleepy, though he had had a good nights sleep.

Raichu's fur was thunderous, and bathed in luminescent lightning.

Out of the bushy forest came a young woman. Her face shaded by a dark-grey cowl. Her skin was wrapped in black wool, and around her shoulders was a loose-fitted, thick cloak.

"Hold it!" Jack barked, his head drumming.

Even with a thousand guesses Jack would never have guessed the sight which had snapped through the branches.

The girl stopped. First surprised, then petrified. She gazed back at them, her yaw dropping.

Silence

"Don't you dare," he said when the woman lowered her hand slowly. "I'll assume you're reaching for a pokeball, knife, or something else to harm us. And if you keep moving that arm I'll send raichu on you." His voice was dark and clear as open skies.

His feet, on the other hand, wavered like a scrappy tree in harsh winds. He was dizzy. Felt drowsy, as though he had been hypnotised.

"You startled me, I didn't mean..." she trailed off.

Jack saw in her eyes a combination of fright and something else. Disgust maybe? Or loathing? He wasn't certain, and thinking about it made the drumming louder.

"You're hurt," she said. "I can help. The wound in your forehead is gushing blood. If we don't clog it soon you might bleed out."

Hogwash, he thought. _You cannot bleed out from a cut_. But the pain had taken over. The knife dangled in the palm of his hand, the sharp blade hung dully between his fingers. It was as much a use as a toothbrush in this state.

"Okay, let her through raichu. But fry her if she tries anything." He looked at her, piercingly. "Don't make any sudden moves. I'm about to pass out and cannot protect you from him."

With his last glimpse Jack watched raichu watching the mysterious woman. Then he saw trees crashing down in a ninety-degree angle. And the soft touch of green grass. And the smell of a fresh forest.

The light from the sun dimmed. Was it darkening already? He wasn't sure, and didn't care. A sudden, immovable urge to vomit washed over him.

He woke. It was dark. Or pitch black. Somewhere off a slow stream of water gurgled its way down to a larger pond. His mouth felt like a bowl of dust. Jack tasted the air, as though it tricked the brain into making more saliva.

His eyes saw only darkness and shadows.

Except for the flickering flames from a crackling fire a spit length off. Raichu lay curved in a ball beside him. Jack brushed his fingers over the pokemon, currents of electricity tickled his skin. Small, yellow sparks collided and smashed against one another, like thrashing waves against mountain cliffs. Jack eyed the sight with admiration. Admiration of the connection to the elements these creatures had.

Jack closed his eyes, searched throughout his mind and body. Searched for injuries, then gaps in his memory of passed events. He found no mindful wounds or gaps. He felt his head, forced himself up and regretted it instantly.

The drumming was gone, and now replaced by a constant ear-deafening shriek.

"He laid beside you the whole time," she said when he was within earshot. "It's just a cut, deep, but still just a cut. Could've been worse."

"Thanks," he said. Came up to the fire, gestured for her to scotch so he too could sit with the winds direction. "I don't like smoke in my face."

They were close, shoulder-to-shoulder close. Too close, perhaps.

She said nothing. Poked the wood with a stick. Watched the flickers of sparking flames soar up.

"Here. Drink this." She handed him the cup.

"What is it?"

"Tea. For the pain."

He took a sip.

"It tastes like," she said

"Shit," he finished.

He hadn't really looked at her, hadn't the time earlier. Except from the dark clothes, the cloak wrapped about her. He eyed her now, as they both sat quietly watching the dancing flames. Her face shimmered against the flames. Some locks of hair so blond they were almost bright yellow poked out from under the hood, lay over her eyes and down her countenance. And underneath a piece of fabric wrapped over it.

A wound perhaps? These were dangerous forests in best of times, and times hadn't been close to that in a long time.

Raichu stretched his short mouse-legs, shook his fur, and hissed at the woman. Flashing his sharp teeth.

"Take first watch you silly pokemon," Jack said in a light mood.

Discreetly he continued.

Her lips were full, and red. Lipstick no question. Around her exposed eye were thick layers of black shade. Wealthy, maybe? But why had she wandered out her, alone. And where did she come from? There was only one person who could answer, he knew that, but he wasn't about to start asking those questions. Not yet.

"You're wondering about the patch." It was a statement more than a question. Still he answered: "yes."

"It's none of your damned business. So lay off."

Rude, he thought, but wasn't in the mood to keep digging, though he didn't think she would've answered his questions. She had a way about her. Disciplined. Still, the pain bore deep within her, like a decease eating her from the core.

"Will you answer me some questions about you?" he said.

She gazed at him, angrily: "I don't want to talk. Is that so hard for you to believe?"

Silence

"And even if I wanted to talk, why do you think that someone would be you?"

Jack looked around. Shrugged. "I'm the only one here."

A pause lingered. Raichu dashed right and left, up and down. Checking every corner, every slope, hilltop and branch.

"Why don't we start with names? I'm Jack," Jack said.

"Raquel," she said.

She leaned back, looked up at the naked sky. Stars sparkled and blinked like silver snowflakes.  
"If I show you, I get the tent for tonight."

He turned to her. Her dark-brown eye studied his. The stern expression on her faces faded. She breathed inn hard and long, as though she was dragging the time. Or savouring it.

"You won't see me in the same light after," she sighed, looked at her shoes. Brown stains of dried mud stuck to them. She lifted one over the other. Tapped the side up and down. She was nervous, Jack could tell.

Her hood fell down her upper back. Her hair was almost glowing. Jack had to look away.

"They said I was blessed with this," she coiled a lock of her hair around her fingers. "But it's a damn annoyance if anything."

She uncoiled the fabric. Round and round. Her eyelid was close. She stared at him, on him… No, through him. Her gaze was thousands leagues away.

She opened it slowly, as though she'd forgotten how too. It twitched, closed shut, and then opened wide.

Jack saw the eyeball resting in its socket like on any other human. However, there was no black spot in the middle or dark-brown patterns. It was white, all white. A frozen fog, or cold smoke trapped in an orb. Deep inside, in the chasms of her empty stare were flickers of yellow and purple. He studied it at first; leaning closer, but quickly composed himself. Cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he coughed. He felt the red hot streams of blushing on his cheeks.

"No, don't," she said indignantly, wrapped the fabric back on, jerked the cowl back over. But smiled. Her lips wide and broad, teeth showing. "You're not afraid or…"

Jack shook. He'd seen worse. Seen limbs torn from their sockets. Seen people ripped apart as though they were clay figurines. The political paradigm was shifting. Turning cold as a northern breeze. Armies were gathering, mercenaries and militia forming. The _blue_ west against the _red_ east. And death in between.

"No, I am not. There's not much I'm scared off anymore. Not because I'm tougher. Where you born with it?"

"Yes, but no more. I'm tired."

Jack knew his time was over, knew how exposing that what she hated the most ripped her up, knew she held back streams of tears. He had to know. Had to ask the question.

"You're one of them, aren't you?"

…

Jack closed his eyes. Waited until he was certain she had closed hers before opening them again. Studying her countenance. He regretted asking the question. She had sent her thunderous wrath of yelling and screaming on him. On the woods wrapped around them.

Jack drowsed off with raichu at his side. Breathing steadily, awake. "Keep guard."

"And make sure she's safe in the tent. She's either running from something, or towards something."

Raichu set his eyes on the young woman. Jack closed his.

He had entered two minutes before closing time. Marie sighed. It wasn't strictly illegal, but all she wanted was to close the doors, go home, and sleep.

He came up to her, up to the counter where she dragged the ragged cloth, pretending to clean off filth. The truth was that few entered this dingy, vile smelling bar. And its regulars had been gone for a long time.

"A cup of coffee, _please_." He said 'please' in an odd way, as though he lisped that word. Marie pushed down the button to the water boiler. No, he didn't lisp it. He slithered it. She shivered. Looked at the man. He was regular enough. Tall, skinny. His leather jacket hung on his shoulders, as if it was one size to big. His trousers where dark, muddy and torn.

 _Click._

She poured the scolding water, mixed it with coffee and served it.

He looked at her sideways, questioningly. "Thanks," he said. Slithering.

"It's an odd thing pokemon's aren't allowed in the town, don't you think?"

She shrugged. Pretended to wash.

"There's no way to protect yourself against someone without a pokemon. Or at least distract as you run off, and out of sight."

The way he spoke. It was as if he warned her. A cold went through her spine, what was he talking about? Why would someone attack someone else?  
He'd come up. They where face to face, nose to nose. Something moved near her feet, touched her. She was paralyzed, fixed in his gaze.

"See," he said. "There's nothing you can do." He took a sip of the still smoking coffee, but didn't swallow.

She had no time to react. The coffee soared from his mouth and sprayed over her face. It burned. She gasped, petrified, this was it. This was how she was going to die. She felt it…

No, not without a fight. She wasn't one to give in, give up when life was tough. She thought of her father. And it gave her strength to swing a blinded arm, and run. She kicked at what was moving down below. Ran left, barred through the sliding doors, skidded her knees as she fell through, wiping her eyes on the apron.

He hadn't moved. Maybe out of surprise. The cold went through her again. He was laughing. Laughing and skipping towards her.

She ran for the back door, grabbed the handle, pulled and pushed. Nothing. Locked! She tried again. Pulled the handle with both arms and smashed the door with her body.

He had locked it.

"I'm not going to kill you. Not yet," he said. " But I need them to start listening." Now she saw. Saw his snake eyes. Saw the ekans wrapping around her legs, felt the air leave her.

Jack woke. Droplets of rain on his face. His sleeping bag drenched. He looked west. The sun had risen, and it was merely minutes before it chased the clouds away. He looked down, looked at the puddle forming at his side. Looked then at the tent and at sleeping woman inside. Her golden hair everywhere.

She was still here. Still close enough. He knew she was scared, scared of being alone. Wandering alone in dangerous, evil woods. And he was going to aid her… if she asked.

He pushed off the wet bag and set it upside down o top of the nearest branch, let it dry, awaiting the suns shining beams. Raichu was out of sight. He made it to the riverbank. Where there had been green grass was now moorland. He stepped carefully, avoiding the deepest pits of filthy waters. Tiptoed.

Jack sat the kettle down, filled it, and tiptoed back. Reformed the wood-logs, cut tiny sticks out of dry-wood, placed it underneath and sealed it. Reached for two grinding stones, whacked them together. The stones were wet. Jack continued, vigorously. After a short while the stones bashing made sparks, tiny, but illuminating. He aimed them at the core. At the dry bark.

Before long the wood ignited and, with a little help of fresh morning breathe, burst up in wild flames.

"Amazing," it came from the tent. Her eye on him. Her long locks tucked back and trapped in a string. "How?"

"I can teach you," he shrugged. "Its friction. And heat."

She was already dressed, half way to him. Her hands stretched out for

the warming flames.

"Want breakfast?" he asked. Sat the kettle on top of two logs. The flames rose up. Fury.

"Yes, please."

"I don't have much. Oatmeal is all really, and tea."

"More than enough. Thanks." She smiled.

Raichu came dashing out of the woods, his fur all tangled and thick. It looked comical, a ball of wet fur. Raquel chuckled sweetly. Raichu gave her deep look. He wasn't having it.

"I can help you," she said. "If you let me."

"How?" asked Jack, curious.

"I have a braid in my backpack. I can soften out the tangled fur if he'd let me."

Raichu wasn't having that either. He circled her, took the long way around, and curled himself up at Jack's side.

"Worth a shot." Jack said, watching the yellow ball licking his fur straight.

"I guess so," she said, trying to sound upbeat, but wasn't quite able to.

"Breakfast!"

"Yes, please." Raquel smirked.


End file.
